The Black Letters
by lilywater17
Summary: When Mrs. Bennet dies unexpectedly, newly-married Elizabeth Darcy knows her life will be changed forever. Having to be strong for her ailing father and her grieving sisters, Elizabeth has never had more to worry over, but when her husband goes missing, she realizes her worries have only begun. Post-P&P. Eventual M.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

* * *

It was raining, turning the lawn into a sea of mud and wet grass. The lake sitting before the large house moved roughly, a combination of the downpour and the heavy wind. The windows whistled and the draft within Pemberley was nearly unbearable, barely kept at bay by the roaring fire within the parlor.

Shivering slightly, Elizabeth sat reclined in her normal armchair, etiquette be damned, pondering her life idly while half-listening to the man in front of her. She had not anticipated this situation when she had gotten married to Mr. Darcy. She had expected to live in the sun at Pemberley, with her husband and Georgiana, and to mentor her new sister in the ways of being a woman and live happily married, content with her role as a wife and, eventually, a mother.

But instead she sat in her dark thoughts, a shall around her shoulders, with a lawyer in front of her. He was a pale, sickly little thing, barely an inch taller than Elizabeth herself, with straight red hair and pasty skin; his clothes hung off of his thin frame unfashionably, and his high, brash voice, unpleasant to hear and listen to, echoed throughout the room intolerably. Elizabeth could do little else but listen to the tiny man prattle about legal documents and such, her eyes glazed over and her expression blank. The words he was saying to her did not make sense to her, as if he spoke a foreign tongue.

"Mrs. Darcy? Mrs. Darcy, are you aware of what I am saying?" he asked mid-sentence.

She looked at him, her dark eyes a mixture of grief and irritation. "Forgive me, my mind was elsewhere."

Frowning, he continued, "As I was saying, you will need to appoint an inheritor of the Pemberley, as we do not know if your husband is to return."

If. The word caused a shiver to run down Elizabeth's spine.

"Yes, I know; my father told me so already."

"Do you know who you will chose?" the lawyer asked eagerly, and Elizabeth felt bile rising in her throat: this man cared not for her or her husband's sister, but only for her husband's money.

"No, I don't," she said, her voice quiet. "And I will not decide presently. Now, if you would, my maidservant shall show you out." Turning towards the half-opened door, Elizabeth called, "Hill!"

Hill had been kind enough to follow Elizabeth to her married house to serve as her maidservant after the death of Mrs. Bennet, which was a shock to every person - man and woman - involved in her mother's life.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Show Mr. Pennington out; I shall take no other visitors today," she bid, Elizabeth's voice a facade of normalcy.

"W-what? In this weather?" Mr. Pennington cried.

Elizabeth smiled vaguely. "Yes, I am afraid; I am sorry for the inconvenience." Bowing hurriedly at the alarmed lawyer, she walked from the room before fleeing up the stairs.

"Lizzy!" a voice called behind her, high-pitched and worried, but Elizabeth ignored it dutifully. She could not look Georgiana in the eye whilst deciding what man was to takeover her missing brother's property, just as she could not look herself in the mirror as she pondered whether or not she was to ever see her husband again. Such ideas could not be borne without sorrow, and Elizabeth dreaded the moments that she would have to the face the fact that she might be legally widowed within the coming months.

She was in her husband's study before she realized where she was going, and she could not help the sob that ripped from her throat. This room did nothing to help the clenching in her stomach and the aching in her heart. The entire room spoke whispers of her husband, from the dark red chair next to the dark mahogany desk to the ceiling-high bookshelves that lined either side of the room. The windows were tall and encompassing bringing light to the room even in the stormy weather; Elizabeth remembered the fond smile that her husband would bestow upon the room whenever he would walk in, and her heart hurt to remember. His knowledge and sensuality littered the room and tears fell down her cheeks at the sight of his dark blue dressing gown - the one he wore when he found her wandering the fields the day of their betrothal - hanging haphazardly from her favorite chair in the corner.

"Oh, my love, where have you gone?" she whispered, sinking to the floor, her back against the French doors, ignoring Georgiana's quiet knocks in favor of staring at the Venetian rug on the wood floors.

The rain poured down, never ceasing, and a quiet darkness settled upon Pemberley, as blatant as the stormy clouds in the sky.

* * *

 **A/N: So I am a rusty writer who is not the most talented at writing period novels. However, inspiration has demanded this story of me, so I shall write it to the best of my ability. I do hope that I did an okay job here for the prologue. I'm already warning you that my writing style will never mimic JA's, and this story is based off the 2005 version of P &P. However, feel free to imagine whomever you wish. :)**

 **x Carly**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: I am posting chapter 1 because I fear that the prologue is not very enticing. :P**

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

* * *

Sunlight seemed to dictate Elizabeth's life the month following her marriage to Mr. Darcy. They toured Europe, visiting the sea as well as the mountains, with each destination being more lovely than the next. Her dreams were filled with the crashing waves of the Atlantic and chipper birds of the forest, as well as the face of Mr. Darcy. _Her husband_.

Despite their sightseeing, Elizabeth had to say that her favorite part of their holiday was what came at night. She did not know what to expect with her husband, who was private as well as awkward. She feared that the situation would be a painful one, mentally not just physically, and that she would not like her marriage bed.

Her mother did little to alleviate her fears, answering Elizabeth's questions with loud blushes and distracted prattle about nothing important. It was only when Elizabeth revisited the questions with her Aunt Gardiner that any real progress was made to the list and some fears were put to rest.

"My darling, Mr. Darcy loves you, does he not?" she asked gently. When Elizabeth nodded, her aunt continued kindly, without an inch of a blush upon her cheeks, "That shall make it all the easier. I know much about how love feels between a man and a woman, and Mr. Darcy shall know how to handle himself - as well as you - when the time comes."

Her aunts gentle words calmed Elizabeth, and upon her wedding night, she learned that she had not needed to fear at all. For all his awkwardness among friends, Mr. Darcy was decidedly well-versed in the conversation of love between a man and his wife. At the end of their wedding night - after which Elizabeth learned the desires of her body as well as her husband's - she found herself unable to imagine herself without such intimacies in her married life, something that her husband heartened hear.

"How are you, Mrs. Darcy?" he had asked quietly after a bout of lovemaking. He lied atop her, his head resting on her bare breast and his face tilted towards her chin; his hand stroked her hips idly and his breath tickled her neck, and she could feel his chest hair scratching at her abdomen. There was a slight thrill about feeling such masculinity against her body for the first time; the sensation was as pleasant as it was foreign, and Elizabeth could not deny that she had never been more content in her life.

She smiled softly, looking down at her husband. His eyes were trained on her lips, and she closed her mouth, her eyes meeting his. The small smile that bloomed on her lips could not be helped, and his blue eyes warmed upon seeing it.

"You did not answer my question, Elizabeth," he whispered after a moment, but his voice sounded far away. All Elizabeth could focus on was his burning fingertips against the side of her stomach, leaving a trail of gooseflesh behind them as he traced hidden patterns.

"I suppose I didn't," she murmured vaguely, her hands leaving his bare back in favor of his face. She did not know that he was moving up her body until their faces met in a light kiss, and suddenly they were tumbling into another bout of love.

Only after they had finished for the night did Elizabeth finally answer his questions.

"I am, indeed, very well, my love," she whispered into his chest, and his response was to hug her close.

Yes, her life seemed to be a beautiful dream, too happy to be true. After returning from their honeymoon - a bittersweet moment for the both of them - their life did not seem to stop its happiness. Georgiana was over the moon to have Elizabeth as her sister and to see her brother so content with life, and Jane and Bingley's wedding was the week following their return. Elizabeth's excitement over her sister's happiness was uncontrollable, and her husband spent many a time with his arm discreetly around her waist in order to calm her.

"You were not this excited at our own marriage ceremony, Mrs. Darcy," he had murmured to her while they watched Mr. Bingley and his new wife dance gaily together at the reception.

She could not stop the smile that his words brought on, but stayed silent; when he started to fidget uncomfortably when she did not respond, she glanced up at him with a smirk on her face. His own expression reflected worry, but was soothed by her playful expression.

It was then that Elizabeth realized that her husband still was still unsure of their relationship together, that still he worried that she did not truly love him and that he was living a dream. Part of her wished to ease his worry, but another part of her worried the same, though not within the same context. What if her happy life with him was to be short-lived, and, in fact, their happy years - or months - of marriage will run out and not equal the quantity in which they are unhappy? These thoughts were quickly banished, however, when her husband discreetly ran his hand down her back and gently caressed the area right above her rear, and Elizabeth took care not to allow her mind to travel down that road again.

But little did Elizabeth or Mr. Darcy know that their worrisome thoughts were not unfounded, as unhappiness was upon them, but it started in an unlikely form: the murder of Mrs. Bennet.

The first wave of melancholy began when Elizabeth learned that her husband of two months was to leave Pemberley in favor of London. She had been dreading the day that business would force her husband away from her, and the day had come sooner than she had expected, which simultaneously angered and saddened her.

"I do not wish to leave you, Elizabeth," he had said quietly after she had argued against his absence, "but I cannot put off my duties any longer, and Georgiana requires your presence here."

Her unhappiness had been apparent the moment he had voiced his needed return to London and to business, and its presence grew in prominence with each passing moment, especially with the idea that there truly was no way that she could accompany him to London. Georgiana was growing increasingly fond of her, and the thought of being alone at Pemberley, with neither her brother nor her new sister to keep her company, brought Georgiana to tears.

"There . . . is there truly no way around it, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth had questioned, even though she already knew what her answer was.

"No, my love, there is not."

For the first time in their marriage, Elizabeth and Darcy had parted ways with a resting discontent, with Elizabeth, admittedly, immaturely discontent with his departure and with Darcy sad to leave his wife unhappy. She had allowed him a deep kiss - in front of his coachman, no less - and a passionate hug, before letting go of his hand and walked from the carriage back towards the main door at Pemberley, where Georgiana stood with a melancholy frown on her face; both women watched as the carriage pulled off into the distance.

* * *

It was still in this unhappy mood that Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy read the letter from Longbourn containing the horrifying news.

 _15 November, 18-_

 _Dear Lizzy,_

 _I wish that you could hear the news in which I am about to relay from Papa, but considering he is beside himself, I figure it is best if it comes from me. I am sorry for not writing you and Jane - I shall write her the moment I have finished this letter to you - sooner, but Longbourn has been in uproar since the dreadful deed that has been done was discovered._

 _Oh, Lizzy, our mother is dead! I loathe to write it upon this parchment, as it reminds of the fact that this is no nightmare in which I shall awake from, but - woe! - it is true! I am so sorry, my dear sister, that you must learn of this dreadful fact through a letter, and as I write this, I cannot contain the sob rising in my throat, as I can hardly bear the weight of the household upon my shoulder as well as the fact that neither I nor any of my relations shall ever have another conversation with our poor mother._

 _What is worse is that I feel alone at Longbourn: Papa is beside himself in his grief, and has found himself in a worse health than ever before; the doctor diagnoses a broken heart, but you know as well as I that Papa was never overly fond of Mama and her antics. I know not what ails him, but it is strong, whatever it is. Besides Papa, Kitty has been of little help in running Longbourn. Though her silliness has decreased some since Lydia's permanent departure, she cannot be helped in this situation: She cries incessantly and, if not crying, helps Hill nurse Papa, though her help is haphazard and clumsy at best. Thus, all of which Mama took care of has fallen to me and me alone, and I fear that I shall be trapped here forever if someone does not come and speak some sense to Papa - and Kitty!_

 _I fear, Lizzy, that the only person who can truly help me is you, and perhaps Jane. It has been no secret that you are a favorite of Papa's, and I believe that your presence at Longbourn may help him some. Please, return in a hurry, as I do not know how long I may hold out without losing my own sanity._

 _I am sorry that you must find out in such a way, Lizzy. Believe me when I say that._

 _Most Sincerely,_  
 _Mary Bennet_

The pain that arose in Elizabeth's chest was unparalleled, and she was against the wall with her hand against her heart before she had realized that she had fallen. An alarmed Georgiana called for the servants to bring some tea and helped Elizabeth to Darcy's favorite armchair, keeping a hand on her arm until Elizabeth was safely seated.

"My dear sister, what is the matter?" Georgiana asked quietly, sitting dutifully next to Elizabeth with folded hands and a patient tone.

Elizabeth held the teacup in her hand, barely hearing Georgiana's words over her racing thoughts. How is such a thing possible? Her mother? Dead? Impossible. Her mother was always so filled with life that the idea of anything other than alive could not be borne.

When Georgiana questioned her again, Elizabeth, who was still without tears, simply handed over the letter to the young woman, who read the words with gasp.

"Oh, my dear Lizzy, I am so sorry!" Georgiana said after she had finished. "I will call for Jane immediately!"

Elizabeth simply nodded, still uncomprehending. All she could think was that she wanted her husband to be the one calling for her sister, that she wanted her husband to be the one to comfort her in her time of grief and to accompany her to Longbourn. She wanted her husband, and she did not have him; only then did the tears start down her cheeks.

Jane's arrival was unneeded but greatly appreciated, as Elizabeth felt a detached sense of normalcy as she discussed the news of her mother's death with her sister.

"What are we to do, Lizzy?" Jane asked quietly, looking out the tall bay windows and out onto the lake from her seat opposite Elizabeth. Jane looked surprisingly well for someone who had received such grievous news, but Elizabeth could see the underlying sadness beneath her sister's blue eyes. "Are we to abandon our own homes and return to Mary in the hopes of somehow helping Papa?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "What would our presence do other than relieve Mary of her duties as acting mistress of Longbourn? Her letter is selfish enough for anything, and more of a cry of help than grief. If Papa wanted us there, he would have written!"

Jane's answering frown was acute. "Oh, Lizzy, do not say such things. You know how Mary is: She can barely handle herself rather than an entire household, and I am sure that the addition of grief does little to ease the adaption from inhabitant to mistress."

"But she forgets herself!" Elizabeth cried passionately, rising from her husband's chair and towards the tall glass window of the parlor. Wrapping her arms around herself, she continued, "I am the mistress of my own house, mistress to a house that remains absent of my husband for another fortnight, and I cannot leave my husband's sister alone in this house without another to accompany her!" Tears shown on her cheeks, and Elizabeth wiped at them in vain. "How can I help Mary and Papa and Kitty if I can barely help myself? I am barely containing my own grief, she cannot hardly expect me to go and help contain hers!"

"Oh, Lizzy," Jane whispered, following her sister to the window and wrapping her arms around Elizabeth's shoulders, "I am so sorry. For the both of us, I am so sorry."

Though Jane's words offered comfort, Elizabeth still felt unsettled in the idea that she would indeed have to return to Longbourn to aid her family in the burial and aftermath of her mother's death, but her departure from Pemberley was hastened by Georgiana, who bravely told Elizabeth to abandon her in favor of the ones who needed her most.

"I insist, Lizzy," Georgiana assured later that evening after Jane had left to return to Netherfield.

"Your brother would not like it," Elizabeth argued halfheartedly, knowing fully well that her words were invalid.

"You know perfectly well that my brother would encourage your departure to Longbourn, and I shall do the same. I have the servants of Pemberley to keep my company, and I think I shall invite Miss Sarah Vaughn to come stay with me until you or my brother return."

With that, Elizabeth wrote to Mary a short letter of her and Jane's intentions of returning to Longbourn and began the preparations of her journey.

It was the night before Elizabeth's trip - four days after first learning of her mother's death - that Elizabeth finally had the time and energy to sit down and write a letter to her husband to explain her current situation. She expressed her desire to see him as quickly as possible and her undeniable yearn to have him by her side.

 _My love, it is so much more difficult to deal with that I have been dealt without you, and the fact that I cannot speak my thoughts aloud to you makes my heart ache and tears form in my eyes. Please, write in a hurry, as I ache to read words written by your hand._

Sending the letter was bittersweet, and getting into the carriage with Jane was even worse. Elizabeth did not know the next time she was to see Pemberley, and she wished desperately that she knew the exact date so she would have something to look forward too.

So, just as her husband departed, Elizabeth departed, only her heart was heavier than it had ever been previously.

* * *

 **A/N: So it is very possible that there are typos - really bad typos that I missed with my horrible editing skills, as I am without a beta - in this chapter, so I apologize. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and wish for more because eventually I shall post another chapter. I will try to update weekly, but it might be every two weeks should my life get to hectic.**

 **Review if you wish. :)**

 **x Carly**


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